Take Me Home
by Padfoot Lives
Summary: April has a change of heart, and someone helps her along. DA.


**Disclaimer: **I have no claim on "Everworld" or any of its characters. They all belong to Scholastic and K.A. Applegate. I don't own the song used here either.

**A/N: **Just something random I managed to find time to scribble out. One-shot. Please review!

…

…

**Take Me Home**

…

…

My friends are important to me, you know. Magda, Becka, Tyra, all of them. I need them. They know everything about me (to do with the real world, I mean) and I know everything about them. They trust me. I trust them. What would I do without them? They keep me grounded in a world that otherwise feels like it's slipping away because of all the madness and horror in Everworld. I've seen too much, I've watched too much death and slaughter and felt too much fear to ever be normal again. But here, with these guys, I can convince myself that I _am_ normal.

"April? April, are you even listening to me?"

I blinked and looked up. Magda and Becka were staring at me like I had just sprouted an extra head. I frowned slightly, trying to cover it up. "Sorry, Beck. I was just thinking about some stupid project that was due a couple days ago."

"You were thinking about a school project during lunch? While we're talking?" Magda demanded, looking stumped. "You're kidding."

"No, really. It's a pretty interesting project." I was babbling. "Medieval weaponry."

"Oh," Magda said, sounding like she understood at last. And she grinned. "I can see how you might like to daydream about a nice long lance." She winked, and I rolled my eyes. I was about to respond with something equally lame like "Ha, ha" or "You're one to talk" (It seemed like all my best comebacks were saved for Christopher. Everworld April knew them, I didn't.) … when I saw something over Magda's shoulder that made me stop whatever I was saying and pause for a long moment.

A guy was trudging across the lawn where a bunch of seniors and juniors were eating lunch, and he wandered over to a spot under a tree and sat down and just stared off into space thoughtfully, as if he was thinking hard about something. He was a good-looking guy, dark-haired and dark-eyed and sexy in a Dylan McDermott kind of way. The only thing about him that seemed out of place to me was the fact that he was clean-shaven. I sort of preferred the rough stubble look. Fit in more with your image of "General". I also noticed that he looked terribly depressed, and for a strange moment, I felt a pang, as if I understood and I almost wanted to go over there and try and make him feel a little better.

I cast my mind back to the last things I remembered about Everworld. I had killed Senna. Then we'd all grouped on the hillside, and Merlin had healed David's injuries and tried to heal Jalil's but Jalil had refused for some reason. Then he'd advised us to take a break, and we'll all dropped off to sleep slowly, one by one. I felt a bitter taste in my mouth. No wonder he was depressed. I'd killed Senna.

And for some reason, I hated the fact that he was depressed that Senna was dead. Sure, even he knew that it was better in some way that she was gone. But he missed her, I was sure of it. I hated him and hated her for that. And for the life of me, I didn't know why.

"Whoa, April," Becka said, sounding irritated now, "This is the second time you've phased out on me. Come on, spill. What's going on? Why do you keep drifting off while we're talking? It's like you never really talk to us anymore and to be really honest, I'm beginning to worry about you and it's also beginning to piss me off a little that you never talk to us and you barely listen to us. I mean, friends don't act like that, you know."

Magda looked over her shoulder, shrewder than Becka, following where my stare had been seconds before. I could tell she was startled when she looked back at me. "Were you staring at David Levin?" she demanded.

"Um – " I wasn't sure how to tackle the question.

"Honey, he's cute and everything, but don't you think he's waaay serious?"

"Maybe he has reason to be," I muttered, annoyed a little and also startled that I suddenly felt so defensive of David.

"Huh?" They looked surprised. Becka said, "Isn't he going out with your creepy half-sister anyway?"

"He _was_."

"Oh. Right. She took off, I forgot."

I was beginning to feel pretty pissed off myself. Becka's "friends" speech was ringing in my ears. She was absolutely right. Friends didn't stay silent about their real troubles or find themselves unable to listen to a cry for help. Magda, Becka, hell, I cared about them all, but had they ever saved my life? Had they ever plunged through a cold river to help me safely to shore, like Jalil had, always showing a brotherly affection and trust? Had they ever needed me so desperately that when I smoothed their hair back, as I did to Christopher in Goewynne's hospital, they actually had tears of gratitude. Had they ever thrown their own lives on the line to save me from fairies, had they ever endured starvation and sickness just to ransom my freedom instead of saving his own hide? David had done that.

David had saved my life more times than I could count. It was to David I turned when I needed comfort or reassurance or rescue. _Help! Help! David! Stay down, April! David, don't let them take me. Don't worry, we'll get you out, I promise. I'm not leaving you, April. I'm not going to leave you there._ Where was my life, I wondered? Where was my heart? Was my heart here in the real world, with these people I'd known all my life? Or was it in Everworld, with a bunch of lunatics I'd barely known and a young man, a brave general, who gladly gave his life in exchange for ours?

"I have to go," I said abruptly, standing up. They blinked at me.

"What? Where?"

"I have to talk to David," I said.

Magda frowned at me. "Babe, don't you want to spend lunch hanging out with your friends instead? You can talk to the guy sometime later. Spend some time with your friends."

"That's what I plan to do," I said, smiling, and I walked away.

I approached him, sitting forlornly under the tree. My movements were a little tentative. I wondered if he would ever really, in his heart, forgive me for murdering Senna. I knew his conscious self understood and didn't blame me. But what about his heart? That was what mattered to me, and it scared me that it did.

"David," I said quietly, sitting down under the tree next to him.

He looked up, jerked out of his thoughts, obviously a little startled. "April," he said. "Hey."

"Are… you here?"

"Yeah. Jalil took over the watch."

I played with a blade of grass. He was watching me, as if wondering why I had come here to talk to him. Finally, I said, looking up into his dark eyes. "I want you to know," I said softly, "That I'm sorry. Not for killing Senna, because it had to be done. She'd have destroyed us all, David, and I know you don't want to hear that, but… anyway. I'm sorry for the pain it caused you. I never wanted to hurt you, David."

"April, what are you talking about?" He demanded, staring at me like I was completely crazy. "Yeah, I had some twisted kind of feelings for Senna, but I've discovered that they weren't real. Not as real as my feelings for other things, for other people, my friendships with the lot of you. Man, I don't know much about feelings. But you think that by killing Senna you hurt me? Actually, I think you freed me. And…" he paused, and he stared off at the crowds of people. They weren't real. They knew nothing of the other world we were in. We were real. I touched his forearm, and he didn't pull away. We needed to hold onto whatever we could. Then he said, "I ought to apologise. I know what it's doing to you, April. The fact that you killed her. I saw how tormented you looked. I should have done it long ago. I'm sorry I made you do it. I'm sorry _I_ hurt _you_."

I was speechless. "That – that's why you look so miserable."

"I've been feeling really guilty," he admitted, sadly. "I'm sorry, April. I haven't been a very good leader sometimes, and I know you've depended on me. But I'm going to try. I'm going to try and make things better. That is…" he hesitated, "If you decide to stay in Everworld. Because, you know, I'm beginning to fade here, in the real world."

For a long moment, I couldn't speak. I had the chance to stay here, in the real world? But if David was fading, that meant it would be a world without David, a world without Christopher's jokes or magic or truly noble people who were willing to die for what they believed in. But it would be a safer and more civilised world where all my dreams would come true. Wasn't that what I'd always wanted, to be back here for good, without those ridiculous transitions? Wasn't it?

But David…

"You've kept my alive against every odd, David," I said gently, "I think that makes you the best leader we could have ever hoped for."

His mouth moved slightly in what might have been a smile. "Thanks."

I longed to hear him laugh. I wanted to see him happy again.

"I don't know what I want, David," I said honestly, "To stay here for good, without any of you guys or any of that carnage and madness? Or to leave my life here behind, my parents who care about me and my friends and my occasional hot dates…"

He didn't look at me. I think he knew I would choose the real world over Everworld and him. And I think that actually hurt him. "Forget what you want," he said, "What do you need?"

I thought for a moment, and then, teasingly, laughingly, I started singing softly:

"_Where have all the good men gone,_

_And where are all the gods?_

_Where's the streetwise Hercules_

_To fight the rising odds_?"

David looked at me, obviously surprised, and I saw his mouth twitch slightly. Encouraged, grinning, I went on singing, knowing that he understood that the song was for him and not for anybody or anything else. It felt good, to see that I might be able to make him smile. That I had that ability, where no one else did.

"_Isn't there a white knight _

_Upon a fiery steed?_

_Late at night, I toss and I turn _

_And I dream of what I need…_

_I need a hero,_

_I'm holding out for a hero _

_Till the end of the night._

_He's gotta be strong and _

_He's gotta be fast and _

_He's gotta be fresh from the fight_."

He managed to control his expression for about five more seconds, and then he began to laugh. I reached over and hugged him, and after a moment, he hugged me back and we were both laughing at a song that was so ridiculously apt that it was hilarious. Then I leaned back my head and kissed him on the top of the head. And I said, "Make things right, David. I'll be right alongside you when we win this war."

"You sure about this? Because there's no going back."

"Yes. Take me home, David."

He looked at me, and gently kissed me, like we had wanted to so many times before but just never did. "Where's home, April?"

"Wherever you are."

"Well," he said, smiling as the hole in his shoulder widened and my hands began to fade, "I think I can manage that."

…

…

THE END.

…


End file.
